If I were to choose my way

Coming with an early train

I’d always walk on your side of the street.


And when I’m strolling home at night

With arcade fire in my ears

In my head, we’re strumming on our air guitars.


But when you asked me on that day

Why I preferred him over you

I did not know what I should say.


But if you asked me right this second,

As I’m eating my pistachio ice-cream from a cup,

Then I would say to you that you’re not real.


Sad things never are.

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